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#slightest baby hint of
toastybugguy · 2 years
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Self indulgent PRSK x THH mall meeting crossover, I just think they could b friends….
May or may not make a second part to this, who knows. Kinda also wanna draw Chiaki and Nene playing video games or Haruka and Sayaka bc angst n such…lots of ideas!! The interactions are sooo fun to think about….
she/her for Chihiro (but they/them is okay too :]) and they/them for Mizuki, obviously!
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fushigurro · 1 month
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when he’s been a brat but you finally tame him back into being a loverboy and go “that’s it, there’s my sweet boy” when he gives in and he just smiles at you all dopey and whatnot 🥺
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potatobugz · 1 year
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hi dear mutuals + followers. n. new hyperfixation. i think. please do not blow me up with missiles and rockets☹️
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slippery-minghus · 1 year
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tonight's "late" night thought is brought to you by: i probably would be a lot less selfish if i had any siblings, but i'm glad i don't because becoming an adult and learning to care about myself and respect my own boundaries when i didn't have siblings to raise/defend was hard enough thanks.
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tismeandmylife · 4 hours
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why are fathers so awful??
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luveline · 5 months
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Hi idk if u have already written this if u have pls igonore but what about the first time bombshell reader calls Spencer beautiful?
fem, 1k
“Gideon has a new prodigy.” 
Your head rises of its own accord. “Yeah?” 
“He's younger than you. Twenty three, I think Hotch said. Fresh out of college, two degrees and working on a third? Or maybe he was getting his doctorate? I couldn't keep up.” Morgan shakes his head in disapproval. “Overeducated and under-experienced. He failed his physicals. The ones he took, anyways.” 
“Ooh, ouch. A baby on the team before me,” you joke with a smile. “Genius baby, but a baby.” 
Morgan smiles when you smile, he's too nice not to, but he picks up soon enough, crossing his arms where he's stood and wrinkling what was once a finely steamed suit jacket. “I don't know what Gideon's thinking.” 
“Does anyone ever know what he's thinking? What's Hotch say about it all?” 
Morgan reads what you're typing from over your shoulder and corrects a mistake. One day you won't need his help, but for now you take as much of it as you can get. You're not too proud to acknowledge when you mess up, you're a realist. Super sensible (in mind if not action). 
“Hotch lets Gideon do what he wants, mostly. What can you do when he's one of the originals?” Morgan leans heavily onto his desk by the forearms and shrugs. You’re similar in this regard; complain, move on. You're similar in other ways, too. That's why you get along. 
“Well, I want to meet this guy,” you say. “We'll be teammates just as soon as Strauss stops hating me. I'm one strategic boxed bouquet from a full pardon.” He laughs and touches your arm like he believes you. “Is he around?” 
“Here they are now.” 
You spin in Morgan's desk chair slowly. Jason Gideon is stalking through the office with his head in the contents of a manilla envelope, while a new face follows behind him talking a mile a minute. 
“Obviously,” you hear Gideon interrupt as they get close enough. “Agent Morgan can explain that to you. Don't overthink it, Spencer, just try to get through it.” 
He doesn't acknowledge you nor Morgan as he leaves Spencer and hurries up the steps leading to his and Hotch's offices. You aren't expecting much else from him. What little Gideon knows about you he doesn't like. If you ever get over the Strauss hurdle, it's him you'd have to convince next. You don't watch him cross the landing, your gaze focused on the man making his timid way toward you. Your lips part briefly, and then quirk into an overjoyed smile. 
“Oh, you're beautiful,” you say without thinking. 
He frowns at you. 
“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, “This is Y/N L/N. She works in the sex crimes division. As you can imagine, we get a lot of crossover.” You stand, holding out your hand. “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid.” 
“I don't shake. Sorry.” 
You press your hand to your chest. “Oh, that's okay. I shouldn't assume…” Your voice melds into a silkiness that has his shapely brows furrowing further, “It's nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. You're really pretty, do you know that?” 
Spencer peeks at Morgan quickly, who laughs good-naturedly. “She's serious, Reid. She's not making fun of you.” 
“You'd know,” Spencer says. It isn't malicious, but it isn't exactly friendly, either.
You twist to frown at Morgan deeply. “Morgan, you're not being nice to him?” 
“I'm being plenty nice, sweetheart, but this is how it works. I gotta haze him a little.” 
“No, you don't.” You tip your cheek toward your shoulder to look at Spencer through your lashes. “He pretends to be worse than he is, I promise. But don't let him neg you, okay? You're smarter than he is–” 
“Hey.” 
“–and he's used to being the office pretty boy. It's jealousy, nothing else,” you finish. Spencer really is gorgeous now you're close enough to see his eyes. A brown like caramelised sugar tented by dark, dark eyelashes. When he smiles, the very slightest hint of teeth shows, and it makes him even prettier. You endeavour to make him smile again. “Sorry if I'm coming off a little strong. It's not my intention.” 
“She's just nervous. You have everything she wants,” Morgan says. 
You sigh forlornly. “Oh, doesn't he?” Spencer's confused pout is even cuter than his smile. “Getting into the BAU is about as easy as walking on water.” 
“For a human,” Spencer says. “Easier if you're smaller. Like a water strider.” 
There's a silence. Morgan is aghast, you think. You're in love. 
“Yeah?” you ask, stars in your eyes as his own spark to life. 
“Because water strider's can transfer their weight, but also due to their hydrofuge hairpiles. Their microhairs.” He catches himself, measuring your expression carefully. “Did you really wanna know?” 
“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee and tell me about it?” you ask. 
His lips part as yours had when you first saw him. 
He's prevented from answering as Hotch's office door opens and the man himself walks out near the railing. “Good, you’re here. I have something to talk to you about.” 
You grin at him. “I'd love to chat, Agent Hotchner, but I'm getting to know your new protégé.”
“I see.” He waits. 
You would ignore him —Hotch has a soft spot for you (or rather, he likes you enough to put up with you, which is more than can be said about other members of his division) and he'd shrug off your dismissal— but you're really keen to hear what he has to say. Perhaps Strauss has changed her mind about your proposed trail basis with the team. 
“I'm so sorry,” you say to Spencer, immediately re-dazzled by his pretty, lovely face. “It was really nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. Maybe next time you can tell me more about it.” 
You give Morgan a quick thank you for the help with your paperwork and trust him to log out of your emails. In your rush up the stairs, you hear a wisp of conversation. 
“Was she messing with me?” 
Morgan laughs. “No, kid. That's how she is.” 
"Oh... She's nice."
"You have no idea."
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ IN YOUR ARMS (I’M WARMEST) — GETO SUGURU.
contents. it’s a bit of a prequel to this drabble about the shower scene, but can be read as a stand alone, post hidden inventory arc, depressed suguru :(, small spoon suguru bc he deserves to be held, reverse comfort, established relationships, healing suguru agenda !! i’m passionate about this agenda !!!!!!!
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usually, instead of you sneaking into suguru’s room, it’s the other way around. usually, he slips under your sheets and curls around your body, your combined giggles seeping into the sheets as he sneaks in a few hours of sleep with you in his arms before he inevitably has to leave before he’s caught.
tonight is different, though—suguru hasn’t come to your room to sleep with you in more than a few days. you don’t even think he even sleeps anymore, if the dark circles under his eyes are of any hint.
so you do the only thing you can think of: sneak into his room.
“hey, are you asleep?” you poke his shoulder—he’s had his back facing the door since you stepped in, and he’s made no move to face you.
“yes,” is all he says.
“wow,” you roll your eyes, “i’m risking a lot of wrath with yaga to be here, y’know. least you could do is face me.”
“you should sleep,” he mumbles, “you have a mission tomorrow.”
“it’ll be easy,” you say wave off, “i’ll be back before lunch time. we can eat together,” you offer.
suguru has hardly been eating—you notice this instantly. if you’d just get one chance to sit and have a meal with him, you’d force a few bites into him, but it’s been a busy week. for all of you. you haven’t properly seen satoru in what feels like ages—the newest missions he’s been assigned have been much more complex, much more difficult for anyone else but him to handle.
he hasn’t known rest since that day.
suguru is alone more now, on missions and once he’s returned. the gap between him and everyone else feels like it gets wider and wider every day. he’s become more distant, in more ways than one.
“you shouldn’t say that. you never know what happens on a mission,” he says seriously. “be careful.”
the last part, barely, just barely, sounds like a plead.
you sigh, wrapping yourself around his back and pulling him against your chest, slipping a hand under his shirt and rubbing slow circles into his bare skin. he likes the feeling, it’s always soothed him.
“i’m always careful,” you murmur, “i’ll bring you soba on my way back. will you eat for me, sugu? just for me,” you pout theatrically.
suguru is always weak to your dramatics—it’s your appeal. he finds it cute, always gives you a chuckle as he caves and gives you exactly what you want.
this time, he doesn’t offer you so much as a hum.
“if i’m hungry,” he mumbles.
“baby,” you sigh, nose burying into his hair. the strands are slightly knotted—something that suguru never lets happen with his hair. “you need to start looking after yourself more. i’m getting worried about you.”
“you don’t need to worry about me,” he mutters, “you should go and sleep.”
deep down, you know he’s gently telling you to leave. suguru is asking you to leave—but you know if you leave, something might change. something irreversible. so you wrap your arms tighter around him, pull him closer as hold his body against yours.
“i always worry about you. and you should sleep too,” you say simply, “we can sleep together.”
he’s silent.
so you let him stay like that, rubbing over his abs slowly and tracing the skin, writing your name with the tip of your finger lightly so he knows he’s yours even when he acts like he’s alone. you press a kiss to his head, and because he’s still your suguru, he melts just the slightest bit against you.
progress.
“hey,” you whisper, chin resting on his shoulder. you watch his head turn slightly as he looks at you from the corner of his eyes.
“what?” he sighs.
“i’ll take care of you, so you don’t have to, okay?” you promise gently. if suguru can’t find it in him to look after himself, he doesn’t need to—not when you’re here. “we’ll start slow, yeah? tomorrow you’ll shower. and then i’ll feed you.”
“you don’t have to—”
“shh,” you hiss, reaching over to press a finger to his lips, “i’ll bring your favorite, and then i’ll feed you like the princess you are. it’ll be nice, trust me.”
“but—”
“i’ll even give you a kiss for every bite. how does that sound?”
he sighs, hand resting on top of yours as you stay rubbing circles into his skin.
“good,” he whispers, “sounds good.”
“i love you, baby,” you kiss his head again, “i’m sorry i haven’t been here all week.”
“it’s not your fault,” he insists, “it’s…it’s been busy for us all. i don’t mind—”
“i’ll make more time for you,” you say firmly, “i promise. okay?”
you’re not sure if you imagine it, but you think his exhale might be a little shaky. and then he nods against you, leaning back so his body is pressing into yours even further. you wrap your arms tighter around him and pull the sheets until they’re under his chin, making sure he’s covered all the way.
it’s cold in his room at night—you can’t always make it warmer, but you can try to share your heat.
“okay,” he says after a while, “i’ll shower tomorrow.”
“good,” you nod, “i’ll handle the rest. now get some sleep, yeah?”
he nods—but even as you slowly doze off, sleep doesn’t come to him. but it’s not so lonely to stay up tonight, and the bed doesn’t feel stiff under his back. his hand is still on top of yours, finger tracing lightly over your knuckles.
“i love you too,” he mumbles—you don’t hear it, but he still wants to say it.
it’s a start.
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i should just write a progressive series of suguru slowly healing and then we can have teacher suguru bc imagine him writing on a chalkboard with chalk. yeah. it’s okay if you moan at the idea i did too. i won’t judge !!
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woncoyo · 2 months
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☁️⠀࣭⠀𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾'𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖽?!
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pairing: hyung line + gn!reader genres: fluff, fluff, fluff warnings: none word count: 531 the one where there's only one bed.
author's note: i wrote this based on these prompts (click here)
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( heeseung ) you grumbled like a baby at the mere thought of sharing the bed with heeseung, but then, in the dead of night, he felt his arm grow numb from an odd weight, only to realize it was your slumbering body completely intertwined with his. the fortress of pillows you'd erected between you two lies in ruins, and you were sleeping so peacefully that he couldn't bring himself to disturb you. "and you said you'd rather die than sleep in the same bed as me," he whispered into your hair, stifling a chuckle.
( jongseong )  he slept on the floor and woke up to some noises coming from the bed where you lay. moans escaped your mouth as you drifted off, and jay intended to laugh or even record it if it weren't for the tears falling from the corners of your eyes. a concerned look took over him, and he gently grasped your shoulders, squeezing them until you woke up. your red-rimmed eyes and quivering lips left him puzzled, while it took you a moment to grasp your surroundings and his presence. "it was just a bad dream..." he murmured, his fingers trailing through your hair. you steadied your breath, feeling embarrassed by your vulnerable state, even though jay wasn't teasing you as usual. then, without a hint of shame, before jay could return to the floor, you grabbed him by the hem of his shirt. "could you, please, sleep here with me?"
( jaeyun ) you and jake had a heated argument after discovering you had to share the bed, simply because you both thought you were too large to fit together in such a small space. however, no one anticipated a cold draft sweeping through the night, causing you and jake to wake up the next day glued to each other: your face buried in his chest while jake hugged you as if you were a plush toy. "promise not to tell anyone about this?" you asked, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. — "tell what? that you couldn't keep your hands off me?" he teased. — "you were the one clinging to me like a monkey!"
( sunghoon ) the idea of sharing the bed with you didn't faze him in the slightest. however, you were adamant about maintaining a generous distance between the two of you to avoid any unintentional touches. yet, in the middle of the night, like two magnets drawn together, your bodies converged. you woke up to the sensation of gentle strokes in your hair, your face nestled against a sturdy surface. by the time you realize you were lying on sunghoon's chest, he was already quipping, "are you comfortable, hm?” too embarrassed to move away, you tried to stay still. "i know you're awake, sweetheart. you stopped snoring."
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© woncoyo.
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prettyfastcars · 2 months
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owned | Mob!Lando
Summary: You took the job because the pay was extremely good. Your boss’ reputation didn’t make that much of a difference to you. After all, his kids were who you would be spending most of your time with, not the single father… right? 
Themes: nanny!reader, infidelity, sort of dark!mob!lando, smut, explicit language, possessive!lando, breeding kink (brief)
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“I’d like to see you before you leave.” 
It was the same sentence every night. Every single night. And each night, those words tormented you. You felt too much at the same time. Guilt. Shame. Hunger. Lust. More guilt. Anticipation. 
The first night, on your first day many months ago, when he first said those words to you when he came home from work, you thought they were harmless. Maybe a caring father wanting to know how his kids behaved with their nanny on her first day. You’d thought that he’d ask you about your day with his kids. 
And he did ask. But that wasn’t all. When you left his study room that night to go home, something in you had changed. Nothing had happened without your consent, and yet it felt like he had invaded a part of you that you didn’t know existed. And the worst part was, you couldn’t wait for him to do it again. 
And now, that damn sentence had become part of your routine. 
After putting the kids to bed, and making sure they were asleep and snoring adorably, you made your way to those huge doors of his study room. 
You didn’t need to knock anymore, you just walked in and shut the doors behind you. 
And there he was. The man most people were scared of in this city. The man who had hired you as the nanny for his kids. Also the man whom you slept with each night before going home to your oblivious boyfriend. 
Lando stood by the large window, looking down at his front yard which was easily one of the most impressive features of his cape cod style mansion. As usual, he was sipping on his drink. Hand running through his curly hair. He had his back to you but you knew he must have the top buttons of his shirt undone. 
You cleared your throat as you approached his lean body standing by the window. Lando turned to face you then, smiling as he watched you walk over to him. Once you were close enough, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer. 
Nuzzling your neck and breathing in your scent he said, “Hi baby, how was your day?” 
“Um, good.” You gasped when you felt his gentle kisses up and down your neck. 
“How were the kids?” He asked, casually kissing your skin like this was normal. 
“They were great, as always.” Your heart raced as you wrapped your arms around him, his body heat felt familiar and… good. It felt safe being here with him, no matter how wrong it was. 
“You missed me?” He asked, pulling you even closer as he playfully nibbled on your skin. “‘Cause I missed you. I thought of you all day, you know that?” He pulled away to look at you. “I saw you in this little dress this morning and I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you in it.” 
He leaned in to kiss you, like he always does, but tonight you stopped him. You turned your head just the slightest bit so he’d miss your mouth. And he didn’t like that. 
“I… I can’t stay tonight.” You whispered, looking down at the buttons on his shirt instead of into his pretty eyes. Because you could never resist them. 
Lando sighed, kissing along your jaw. You could smell a faint hint of the whiskey he’d just been drinking. “Why do you always do this? Hmm?” He whispered into your ear, “Why do you act like you don’t want this?” 
He placed his glass down on his desk and let his hands wander all over you. He ended up pushing you onto the edge of his desk, stepping in between your legs. One hand sliding under your dress and caressing your thighs, while the other ran up and down your back lovingly. 
“I have to go home.” You said, looking into his eyes and immediately regretting it because he could get you to do anything with one look of those soft eyes. 
“To him?” He asked in an accusatory tone. His expression changed from calm to annoyed. He tsked in disappointment when you remained quiet. “How many times are you gonna talk about this, baby?” 
“I can’t just break up with him.” You argued. “We’ve–,” 
He cut you off. “Oh? So you can’t break up with him but you have no issues going home to him every night with my cum still dripping from your pussy, huh?” 
You used to find his crude words shocking, but not anymore. “It’s not as easy as you think.” 
Lando scoffed, “I’ll make it easier for you if you want.” 
You knew what he insinuated. He was the man he was because of his crooked ways after all. And you immediately shook your head. “Don’t hurt him.” 
That only pissed him off more. His hand moved from your back to wrap around your neck, “We’re not gonna play this little game anymore, you hear me?” He whispered against your skin, lips moving along your jaw while his fingers toyed with the seam of your underwear. 
You struggled to find the right words. So he continued. 
“How long are you gonna keep him in the dark, hmm? How long are you gonna keep going home and sleep beside him while you’re still filled with my cum every night?” He scoffed. “He’s gonna find out someday.” He stated. “Better tell him the truth.” 
“Lando…” You were barely able to think coherently when he easily slid his fingers inside you, stroking you perfectly like he always does. You squirmed and whimpered, before whispering, “This is wrong. We should stop.” 
“So you keep saying.” He answered, arrogant and smug. “Yet you come here each and every night to get fucked.” He pulled away to look into your eyes, still finger-fucking you just hard enough to keep you wanting more but not making you come just yet. “Does this feel wrong, baby?” 
You let out a loud moan as his finger hit the right spot. “Please…” You begged, you didn’t know what for. 
He smirked. “Look at you,” He cooed, “I know he doesn’t touch you like I do. You’re wasting your time with him when you belong to me. You belong right here,” He whispered, pulling his fingers all the way out before sliding them back in, making you moan even louder, “See?” 
You opened your mouth to answer, probably about to beg him to touch you more, but he was already pushing you down onto his desk. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his lean waist as he bent down to kiss you. His hand still around your neck while the other slid the strap of your slip dress down your shoulder. 
He let go of your throat eventually, still kissing you passionately as his hands quickly got rid of your dress, letting it fall to the ground careless as his mouth kissed down your neck, further down your chest until he latched on to one of your nipples. He sucked on it gently as your back arched off the desk, with you whining in bliss. 
You cried out, “Lando…” 
“I know, baby.” He whispered, “I know.” 
Your fingers found their way into his soft, curly hair and you tugged on it softly, making him groan as he kissed his way up to your neck once again while he slid your underwear down your legs quickly. 
“You’re mine.” He whispered against your tender, swollen lips, “All mine.” 
His hands quickly undid his trousers and you immediately felt his tip, leaking with precum, slightly pressing against your wet folds as he slid it up and down before aligning it to your dripping hole. 
Lando held himself up with one hand, bent over you as he stared down at you. “You’re gonna break things off with him tonight.” He said in that authoritative voice of his, the one which made you tremble and clench your thighs together. “And tomorrow you’ll be all mine, and mine alone. You understand?” 
You nodded, panting in need. 
“That’s my good girl.” He whispered before slowly sliding his cock inside you. You whimpered as he filled you up perfectly, stretching you out just enough to make you lose your mind. He groaned as he began moving in and out of you, setting a pace that made your heart race even faster than before. He slowed down for a moment, thrusting into you nice and slow as he hovered above you, looking down at you with parted lips and intense eyes. “Do you know how often I think about us living here together?”
You couldn’t look away from his pretty eyes, couldn’t think about anything else as he fucked you with deep, slow strokes of his cock. He leaned in to kiss your lips, swallowing your moans as he pulled out completely and pushed back into you, making you gasp and whine in pleasure. 
“We’ll be so happy together.” He whispered, kissing along your jaw. “The kids love you,” Then he chuckled, “I love you,” He murmured into your ear. He picked up his pace then, pounding into you relentlessly, as he kissed your open mouth, swallowing all your moans and whimpers in the process. “Think about how happy we would be.” 
You whined upon hearing his words, and also the sounds your bodies made together, filling the entire study. 
“Look at me, baby.” He stared down at you, his pretty eyes seemed even prettier in the dimmed room. “Do you know how often I think about you carrying more kids for me?” He was relentless as he pounded into you like he owned you. “You’ll be such a pretty mom, all swollen, and these tits would be nice and full too,” He leaned in again, kissing you softly before whispering, dangerously. “Would that finally make you leave that piece of shit? Hmm? Is that what it’s gonna take?” 
You tried answering but it ended with a loud moan as his cock reached all the right places. He smirked and sped up into you again, relishing the feeling of you wrapped around him like you were made for it. Hearing you moan and squirm under him only encouraged him to thrust deeper into you. 
“I’ll…” You whined, “I’ll talk to him. Tonight.” You struggled to form proper sentences as his body moved perfectly against yours. “I promise.” 
“That’s good.” He whispered, wiping a tear which fell down your face. “Because I’m done being patient now, you hear me?” 
You nodded quickly, whining as he sped up again, fucking you so hard you could hear the papers and files on top of his desk falling to the ground and neither of you cared. 
“Come for me, baby.” He whispered, his voice strained and raspy. “Come with me.” 
Your mind was foggy by then, and it took your brain a few seconds to register and process his words. Not even a few moments later, you felt him twitch inside of you, his cock throbbing against your walls. 
“Fuck,” He came with a growl, gripping your hips and filling you up like he always does. 
You whined as you came around him as well, crying his name and moaning loudly. You felt his smirk against your neck as he kissed his way up to your lips again. 
“Tomorrow,” He whispered, reminding you of what you promised, “I’ll fuck you in my bed until the sun comes up.” 
You could only nod as you felt his cum beginning to drip down your inner thighs. 
— 
He stood by the window again, watching your car as it drove away down the long driveway and out of his property. 
This would be the last time he promised himself. From now on you wouldn’t have to go home each night. You’d just stay right here, where you belonged, under his roof and in his care. 
But just in case things didn’t go according to plan… 
Lando grabbed his phone and made a quick call. Barking his orders at his guy who listened intently on the other side. 
“She just left. Go wait by her apartment complex.” He smirked as he spoke, “I’m willing to bet they’ll have an argument, and just as always, he’ll storm out to go get some air.” 
Lando knew that because… well, he always kept an eye on you through the discrete cameras he’d had installed all around your building. How else would he sleep in peace if he didn’t have eyes on his girl at all times? 
He continued, “I’ll tell you when he leaves her apartment, and you’ll move then. Wait for him to walk past the alleyway, and remember, make it look like an accident.” He sighed, even as excitement washed over him, “Can’t have my girl blame me for killing her ex boyfriend.”
--
part 2
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suiana · 5 months
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(yandere! prison warden x gn! inmate reader) (FYI idk how the law works ok so DON'T come after my ass) (im the type of lawyer that gets ur sentence increased instead of decreased fr💀💀)
"can i kiss you?"
"dude, i literally threatened to kill you."
"so?"
he stares at you with a raised eyebrow, pouting slightly as he leans against the bars of your prison cell. you choose to ignore him, instead opting to play with the plastic fork from your lunch tray.
damn it, you should've known better than to be caught. now you're stuck in this lame ass prison with this warden you don't even like.
curse that stupid lawyer who got your sentenced increased from fifty years to life imprisonment. dude sucked at his job and still got paid 💀
for some context, you were in prison for tax evasion, fraud, and multiple cyber crimes you shall not name. you got caught by accident and now you were here. sentenced to life imprisonment in jail. in a private cell.
you know, it isn't even half that bad as compared to some other crimes others have committed! so you haven't a slightest clue as to why you were placed in a private cell with no one to keep you company!
i mean, you did try befriending your warden but he turned out to be delusional and turned out to be one of the people you scammed. love-scammed, to be specific. which is why he might've been delusional...
"baby why'd you have to leave me? i was so sad..."
see? this is what you mean! he seriously didn't get the hint that he was scammed! even when you told him straight to his face that you never did actually love him!
god damn it. now you have to hear his yapping 24/7. you're starting to think that he might've been the one to report you. i mean, isn't it a little too convenient? he's a prison warden, you've got a private cell-
"hey! are you seriously not paying attention to me?!"
he hits the prison bars lightly to attract your attention. thankfully, it did. or else he might've thrown another tantrum. and you did not have the mental capacity to handle it. come on! if he did it would've been his third tantrum of the week! and it's only monday!
you cock your head at him, rolling your eyes as you acknowledge his presence. your annoying prison warden instantly lights up at the small gesture. oh well, at least he's in love with you to the point where even you acknowledging him makes him happy...
"babe! you've gotta stop ignoring me! it makes me sad..."
"i don't actually care."
"baby!"
damn it, maybe you should've just bribed the judge to let you have a death sentence instead.
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tteokdoroki · 7 months
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Thinking about the freshly corrupted priest Gojo pumping his dick in the confession booth while the sinful vixen sitting in the other cabin went from confessing her sins of corrupting one of the local fathers and having him cream down her throat to giving him instructions on how to handle his throbbing cock lovingly
Go faster now, father- squeeze the tip just a little bit...yes that's a good boy...now spit on it, make a mess of yourself and give everyone a show, all their eyes are peering down and up on you.
And with that, good morning aali my love <3
-glasses anon
☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. confessional.
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about. you confess your sins to father satoru, but with the lust bubbling between you both, things get a little carried away.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, sacrilege, religious imagery/references, guided masturbation, male masturbation, priest!gojo, fem!reader, wc: 1.6K.
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what good is a priest who can’t follow his own teachings? one that succumbs to the slightest hint of femme fatale? 
gojo thought himself a strong man. a good one. but once again, he’d found himself drinking from the devil’s cup offered up by a lost little angel who has strayed away from her path to light. 
“and i really didn’t mean to. father toji— i mean fushiguro— seemed so stressed! like he needed a helping hand.” you whimper unevenly from your side of the confessional booth. guilt buzzes in satoru’s veins as he imagines you teary eyed and distraught on the other side of the wall. the mere idea of you crying sends pleasure and lustful hormones shooting through his bloodstream and right down to his erection — the tip flushing a shameful shade of bright red.
you continue relentlessly, each word a breathless whisper laid over the swell of your sinful lips.“s-so i offered some relief in the only way i know how. i let him use my body, let him use my throat. he said it was okay…” but i just feel so wrong for corrupting him like that under the watchful eye of the lord. is it wrong that i liked it, father ‘toru. having that man’s cum pour down my throat?”
you’ve strayed too far away from the light and you’re pulling him into the darkness with you. 
“f-fuck.” 
“is something wrong father toru, your voice sounds rather strained.” by the tone of your own, he can just tell that you have your head cocked to the side innocently. perhaps your lip is caught daringly between your teeth — eyes gleaming with mischief while you mask your amusement at the damage you’ve caused. the young priest’s dick throbs against his inner thigh, smearing white along his baby soft skin. satoru grabs at his girth, squeezing it as if to stave off the pleasure that he should be disgusted by. 
clearing his throat, gojo internally curses as the words stick to its ridges — almost as if he doesn’t believe what comes out of his own mouth next. “i-i’m fine. have you prayed? i’m sure he would forgive you for your sins.” 
“i’ve been on my knees every night.” you mumble through a pout that he can’t see — earning another hiss from the priest while his angry red cockhead starts to bleed more arousal, forming a dark stain that seep’s through the fabric of his black slacks. “if you don’t mind me asking… does it hurt, father toru?” 
“does what hurt?” he exhales slowly, pearly white lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks. gojo, against his better judgments, pops the button of his pants to provide some relief to his aching cock. it doesn’t help at all. 
“your cock. father fushiguro felt the same after i confessed what i’d done with father getou.” 
shit. “yes… it does.” 
“i maybe be able to help.” your voice somehow sounds closer — as if you’re in the booth with him. “can you touch it… touch yourself for me, please?”
when you ask him so sweetly, how can father satoru say no? he follows your instructions like a man charmed by a succubus from the deep depths of hell. his whole body shudders and his breath stutters when he finally takes his forth between his king and slender fingers, squeezing at the base as precum beads like a rare oyster’s pearl in the centre of his slit. 
this is so wrong. “holy…holy shit,” but it already feels so good. gojo hisses, chest heaving as he instinctively bucks into his closed fist. it’s warm, sends shockwaves of pleasure down his spine to build in his pelvis while each vein that wraps prettily around his cock pulses with a new wave of lust laden blood. “what should i…?” he coughs shakily, hips slowly beginning to fuck upwards to chase the feeling of his palm. “what should i do now?” 
“spit on it, father.” you command him gently, blessing him with your praise where the higher being above might condemn him. “get it nice and wet for me, like i would, okay? squeeze the tip when you do—“ 
father ‘toru easily follows your word as if it reads passages from the bible. carefully, he leans forward — letting hot, gooey trails of spit dribble over his blistering and bright cockchead. his entire body twitches at the new sensation, which is surprisingly cool in comparison to how hot his body feels. sweat tracks it’s way down his body, soiling his hood robes and freshly pressed clothes. it makes his pure white locks stick to his forehead, and gathers on his cupid’s bow and it really is all too much. 
he feels like hell on earth. 
there’s a dull thud that echoes from satoru’s side of the booth, his head knocking against the wooden walls when it falls back. in the same breath, a loud and borderline pornographic moan rips it’s way through satoru’s firm chest — it battles through his lips (caught between sets of perfect white teeth), and reverberates throughout the confessional booth, no doubt catching the attention of people passing by.
“ohmygod,” comes his pathetic whimper while he clenches around himself once again, throat bobbing as he swallows down his sinful sounds. “why does that feel so fucking good? g-god, please!”
satoru’s fall from grace makes a sick smile spread across your lips and you cock your head to the side. you can only imagine what he looks like if this is how he sounds, his clothes a sweaty mess, his eyes delirious and darkened with ungodly and immoral desire. all this while he begs for god, begs for forgiveness, begs for you.
“you’re doing so well for me, ‘toru. can you go a little faster for me? now that it’s nice and wet.” the way his name falls gently from your tongue is like thick honey running through satoru’s ears — you drag a veil of lust over his mind and once again he follows your orders. he pumps himself faster, harder, precum slinging over the edge of his knuckles as they turn as white as his hair from the grip he has on himself. 
he can’t help but let his mind stray and wander off into  damned territory — chasing the vision that his clouded mind creates for him. would your cunt feel as good as this? wrap around him as tightly? a stream of unfiltered and colourful curses pour from gojo’s mouth in a similar manner to the arousal from his mushroomed tip, dripping a searing hot trail down to his throbbing balls.
lewd squelches slip through the cracks of the confessional booth and filter right through to you. satoru has no idea how pleased you are to have ruined him, how much you’ve longed to hear him mewl and sigh from touching himself against the will of god. “you sound so messy, ‘toru,” you moan out just to mock him a little — listening out for his strained and strangled whines, gargling down the saliva that pools on his tongue. “think you can make an even bigger mess for me, father? one that everyone will see. those above….” you purr, the tail end of your words harmonising with gojo’s hiccups. “and those below.” 
satoru is no better than a sinner come to spill their truths to him. sitting there with his painfully hard dick in his hands, fisting it to oblivion as opaque white stains his hands and his fingers and his knuckles. there’s so much of it, so much lust and precum and he hasn’t even reached his peak yet. everything is so fucking hot, his dick slick between his sticky thighs and all-too-tight robes. 
“almost there, satoru. i need you to let go for me.” 
your goading voice through the thick oak wall pushes satoru’s hips to canter up higher and higher. he wants to please you so bad that it hurts and makes him cry. he whispers your name into the buzzing air like it’s a prayer, chanting it over and over again until it becomes the only word he knows.
“fuck… i can’t—“ gojo sighs airily, his thighs shuddering as the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. “christ… I feel like ‘m gonna burst!” angelic blue eyes roll deep back into the man’s skull, disappearing from the world to hide from the atrocities he’s committed. 
“then let go, let it all out. you’ve done so well.” you say sweetly over the sound of gojo languidly jacking himself off. one, two and three more pumps before he’s releasing thick white ropes of cum over his robe and his chest — seeping into his clothes. 
gojo’s so fucking dizzy, cumming so hard that he sees bright lights and swears that he’s landed at the gates of heaven — though he’s sure his actions today would stop him from getting in. there’s a ringing in his ear as he comes back down but all of his limbs feel heavy, he’s too weak to move. 
“f-father satoru?” you whisper innocently, as if your very voice didn’t lead the man to death. “i think our time is up.” 
“yeah?” he mumbles in response, the words slipping around on his tongue. “i think… you did good today. you’ll have to come back again next week, to make another confession.” 
if only he could see your sick little smile, one might have thought you were the devil. who knows what’ll happen if you’re alone together in a confined space. “if that’s what you need from me, father.” you giggle slyly. “see you next week.” 
“see you next week.” gojo repeats.
and just like that, you’ve dragged the poor priest into the corrupted depths of hell.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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rerefundslocals · 2 months
Text
CLOSER TO YOU
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Summary : Jungkook missed your important merger event for your company and a promotion you've been anticipating, he's apologizing for the wrong things, however it makes you love him harder.
>>pairing : jungkook x fem!reader
>>genre : angst, smut , fluff
>>trope : established relationship
>>warnings : mechanic!jungkook (not mentioned alot), corporate!reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk(min), spanking, oc is a creamer and squirter,rough missionary, neck kisses, makeout sesh, very light dom/sub tones, they really just cute.
>>word count : I'll add later.
[a/n : I'm bacckkk, I wrote this all in one sitting,my writers block is over and I will be writing a lot more when I have a chance cause school is kicking my ass omg! thank you for all the follows, this is my little treat to you. Enjoy!! reblog, reblog, reblog, that's how Tumblr works, but anything will suffice for now! come talk to me and send requests, I don't bite<3 p.s this is heavily unedited]
[listen to : closer to you - jungkook. if I ain't got you - alicia keys. bloom - aqyila]
(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)(^.~)
It's thick
The tension between you and jungkook.
You could not believe it yourself when Jungkook showed up an hour later after the merger event of your company, not when he promised to be there.
It was insufferable to face your colleagues without a plus one while their partners had held their hands the whole night. Marie did not bite her tongue when it came to asking you about where your partner was.
Yes, you were incredibly embarrassed and just contemplated staying in the bathroom stalls the entire night.
You have a scowl on your faces as you sit in the passenger seat of Jungkooks fucked Nissan Almera. Jungkook does not make attempts to apologize and it has been that way since he picked you up and quite frankly you're getting sick of it.
"Jungkook, seriously! Are you not going to fucking apologize for how you embarrassed me tonight?!" You finally let it out, screaming into the space of the car.
Jungkook avoids your question and simply presses on the gas to get  home faster. There's no traffic tonight.
You huff as you cross your arms and stare daggers at Jungkooks side profile. "So, I'm just gonna talk to myself then?" Again, no reply.
However the lack of response from your boyfriend does not stop you as you relay to give him a piece of your mind. "I just wanted you to show up, Jungkook for the one time I ask you to accompany me and this is how you fucking treat me?" You take a deep breath as you continue.
"Fine. Miss three dates that I've planned for us, but missing this important opportunity of my life...you must not love me, Kook."
"Don't say that." Jungkook finally whispers into the car. He just wants to fucking get home, But that's another 10 minutes.
You laugh, but its not full of humor, it's an annoyed breath of laughter. " and why not, Jungkook?" You question
He turns to look at you as you're stopped at a red light and his eyes look heavy and tired, hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled up. "If you wanna talk, we'll do it when we get home. Please. I'm begging you, baby."
You stay looking at him and your eyes never leave each other until the sound of a honk takes you both out of your daze as Jungkook drives off, not once waiting for your response.
A sigh is heard in the car and you turn to look at the city lights, hopefully he gets the hint that you'll have the conversation at home.
10 minutes later you're finally home and out of your heels, however you do not waste time getting back into the conversation.
"So why, Jungkook, why weren't you there? Did you know I got a promotion? And you weren't fucking there to stand by my side. Worst of all, Marie threw it all in my face. So where the fuck were you?" You've rambled but you're angry so Jungkook isn't mad in the slightest.
You've always loved the fact that he is incredibly understanding.
"I'm scraping the floors, ____. I'm barely getting by to pay our fucking rent so sue me for taking an extra shift at the workshop so you can get all the nice things you want." He responds to you, running his hands through his jet black hair.
You look around the gloomy apartment as you pretend to not understand what he had just said to you. The kitchen light shines on you both as you're both sat at the bar stools at your counter.
"I'llet you know that I don't need any nice things, I just want you. You're the only-"
"but I wanna give you all the nice things you want and I'll work twice as hard to give you anything."
It's as if he doesn't get it, he's the only thing you'll ever need.
Your head is hung low as tears gather at your waterline, you'd hate for Jungkook to see you cry cause you know how much he detests it. He fucking hates it.
"I-I love you so much, Kook. But as much as I do, I don't need nice stuff, I need you to be there for me, we just need each other. So stop taking extra shifts, I'm working as well and we can have nice stuff if we just love each other and be there for each other. Okay?"
Your voice sounds heavy, the tears have hit the counter and your back is being rubbed by Jungkook.
To avoid further arguments although he doesn't fully agree, he makes an oath to himself to get a better job and get you a life worth of all the beautiful things you want.
"Okay, baby. I'm sorry, I'll be there for you all the time. You know I love you, right? You're my favorite girl." It felt like years since you've heard Jungkooks heartful chuckle.
He lifts you by your shoulders and forces you to look at him, "I said you know that I love you, right?" You stare lovingly in his brown Bambi eyes as you nod.
Finally, he circles his arms around your waist, standing up as he brings your face into his chest.
You feel complete and whole as you melt into your boyfriends arms, there's no one like him, you don't think they'll ever be.
You lift your head as you hold out your pinky finger to him, eyes meeting once again, "pinky promise to never leave me."
Jungkooks lips spread into a wide smile as he locks his pinky finger into yours, "I pinky promise, baby."
After what seemed like years you both laugh lightly at each other, pinky fingers still interlocked.
"Mm, you know you can't break that promise." You teasingly say.
Jungkook chuckles and brings your locked fingers to his lips and laying a light kiss on your pinky, "wouldn't ever think of breaking this promise, Princess." He whispers against your pinky.
You sigh out a low 'okay' as you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his lips unto yours. His soft pillowy lips meet yours and you both dive into a passionate kiss, Jungkooks head tilted to the side to deepen the kiss, his hands sliding down to your waist to grip the skin underneath your black bodycon dress.
Your kiss becomes a fury for passion and lovemaking as your tongue envelops Jungkooks mouth and a soft moan can be heard throughout the kitchen as you moan into Jungkook mouth.
Jungkook peels off your mouth, leaning in to attack your neck in a series of kisses.
"K-kook, please!" You need him so bad, your breath is hitched as you fight for air and your moans are being progressively loud from Jungkook eating your neck.
He lifts his head up, going straight to undress you, you're peeled of your seat and onto your feet. Your dress is stripped off and you're only left in your skimpy black thong, your plump ass all bare for Jungkook as well as your tits.
Jungkook takes your lips once again, leaning  down to pick you up and as he does, he balances you with both hands on your ass and wastes no time laying a slap upon both cheeks and greedily squeezing a handful as you let out moans into his mouth like a mad woman. "Fucking love your ass." He practically groans into your mouth.
Soon, you're backed into your shared bedroom and jungkook throws you onto the bed.
Jungkook tears his clothes off layer by layer until he's left naked and his dick fully hard and bare of any hair is on show.
He spreads your legs as he settles between them, and pulling your thong to the side as he swipes a finger between your folds. "You're so fucking wet, all this for me?"
You can't seem to focus when Jungkook pushes in two fingers into your puckered hole, his speed taking off as soon as he feels you around him. "O-oh fuck, Kook!"
"Mmhm, that's it baby, taking my fingers so well." He fingers you for another 10 seconds until he's pulling out and immediately replacing his fingers with his pink tip, slowly sliding into you tight and wet walls.
"Ohh fuck!" You both moan at the same time, the feeling of his dick deep into your stomach as he starts his strokes off slow.
Your eyes are barely open as jungkook goes at a relentless speed, thrusting into your pussy as if you owed him something.
"That's is baby, cream all over this dick, and spread your fucking legs higher." You're drunk on his cock as he fucks you missionary, feeling him in your organs.
"I'm gonna cum, Kook!" The knot is getting tighter as you feel your wetness trickling down your thighs and your creamy essence coating Jungkooks dick.
"Cum for me, baby. You deserve it. Cum all over this dick." That's all it takes for you to release all over Jungkook, as a scream is let out from the depth of your lungs.
"Good girl." He never stops thrusting as he chases his high, Jungkook presses onto your stomach as he groans, as he feels his high approaching. He's sweaty above you, his dry hair now wet and stringy.
Your moans and Jungkooks are in sync as you feel your tummy tightening once again.
"Fuckk!" Jungkook finally cums and releases his load into your pussy, and you follow right after, squirting all over his lower abdomen.
"Shit." You let out as jungkook rolls over you as he watches you gather yourself.
He gets up and gets a warm wet towel for you. Jungkook cleans himself up and you. Soon after he dresses you up in fresh panties and his shirt and for himself he gets boxers and joins you in bed after an eventful night.
Your head is on his chest as you play with is belly button and Jungkook is in deep thought.
"I'm sorry, baby. For tonight." He finally says and your heart relaxes.
"Let's forget about that. You're here right now, that's all that matters."
"Congratulations on your promotion, I love you, Princess." You're surprised he even remembers and all you can do is let out a squeal.
"Thank you, and I Love you."
"I know." His tone is cocky, not that you care but you're giddy as you lean up to lay a peck on his lips.
There's no where else you'd rather be. That's what you declare.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
original work of @rerefundslocals do not copy, translate or repost as your own! est. 2024
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millerscoffee · 10 months
Note
Hello!! 🤍 I was wondering if you could write something where Joel is the reader’s college professor, and then Prof. Miller INSISTS that reader comes over to his home for tutoring assistance, (because of failed tests or bad essays), and then finally coaxes her into letting him have his way with her.
hi nonnie! here it is! i hope you enjoy 💖
extra credit
6.2k | joel miller x afab!reader (professor!joel au)
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rating: 18+ MDNI
warning: professor!joel au, age gap (joel is 46, reader is 21), soft!dom joel, pining, consensual sex, pet names (darlin', doll, baby), oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, piv (unprotected, wrap it folks), squirting, joel spitting over the reader's ass for 0.5 seconds (OOPS IDK???), a pretty dress with easy access, hints of after care, spoiler: honestly prof. miller could've told reader to just do the paper in a different format but – that's the point 🤭
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When you picked your major, English was a necessary credit needed to achieve your goals.  It wasn’t your strong suit, but you weren’t one to quit just because you were bad at it.  So far you were coasting through, getting a mix of good and bad grades in your English Lit class when the last essay before finals was presented.
Among the crowd in Professor Miller’s lecture hall, you typically sat in the front.  He hands out papers, hovering by your desk.  Giving you a look of disapproval, he places the grade face down.  You peel the pages in anticipation, a sense of dread falling over you when you scan the big, red mark of failings.  “Shit,” you say to yourself.  That was it.  That was the grade that was the defining factor of whether or not you had to retake this course.  You use the side of your hand to wipe sneaky tears in falling.  You failed.  Doing your best to keep it together, you’re not sure you even heard the rest of the lecture from the possibilities running through your mind.  What were you to do?  How would you recover?
Class was over before you knew it.  The sounds of bags zipping and feet stepping, you stayed seated until you were able to look over to Professor Miller.  Dressed in black slacks, a brown button-up with leather shoes.  His hair was slick, the slightest bit of salt and pepper patched at his sideburns.  He looked like he had it all figured out, and that struck a nerve.  A feeling of jealousy that he knew what he was doing, and you obviously did not.
Professor Miller calls your name when the class is emptied, and you sniffle, standing up to straighten your skirt.  Your manicured nails pick up your essay as you walk over in an attempt to hand it to him.  “I guess you want this back,” you hold your full bottom lip between your teeth.
“Did you read the material?”  Professor Miller inquires, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  His voice is so dark and honied in comparison to his scowl.  Proving not to judge a book by its cover.  The irony.
“Well, I did, but… I struggle with this stuff.  Predicates and imagery?  I’d rather be learning about biology.  But I need this course, you know.  And I…,” you swallow hard.  God, the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of your teacher.  He doesn’t know you, out of the hundreds of people he teaches – how could he possibly even remember your name?
“Hey,”  Professor Miller takes his glasses off, putting them on the table.  He looks as concerned as you are over it and crosses his arms.  Keeps his distance.  “It happens, you know.  There are things we can do to accommodate.  You’re very bright, I’d hate to see you fail.  You have options.  I can’t let you rewrite the paper, but I could tutor you for your final.  Another option is getting a student tutor, but it’s rare.  You know the workload of this university.  Not a lot of people are willing to sacrifice their precious time.”
“And you are?”  You look up at him with grateful, bright eyes and he loves it.  The praise just from your stare alone is cause for him to clear his throat.
“Listen, for someone like you, I believe it is important to help.  You just need a little more time understanding what you’re doing, is all.  I’m not in my office for the rest of the weekend, though.  You’d have to come by my house…,”  he watches those pretty eyes widen again, and that makes a smirk fall over his greying features, “if that’s okay, of course.  If it’s not, we could work something else out.”
You think about it.  You’ve never had a teacher invite you over, much less someone who looked the way he did.  Though, that was neither here nor there.  His lips formed words you couldn’t even pay attention half the time in hearing.  Maybe that was part of the reason why you were failing in the first place.  But you needed to pass, and if he could help you – and was so kind enough to do it in the first place, you should jump at the first opportunity.
“Okay.  Is there a particular time you’d like me to be there?”
“Are you busy tonight?”
What the fuck. That makes your heart race.  Tonight?  Tonight?!  Ton–
“Tonight… tonight is good.”  How did you even form the words?
“Perfect,” he started, bending down to write his address on a sticky note – his cologne wafts in your direction, and you clamp your legs shut reflexively.  “Here’s my address.  7 o’clock.”
“Seven.  Okay… thank you, Professor Miller.”
“Please, call me Joel.”  His teeth gleamed in a smile, and his personality shined through it.
A personality you didn’t get to see too often from your position behind a desk.
Shit.
---
According to your phone, he didn’t live very far from campus, and you were able to walk to his house without breaking too much of a sweat.  You decided on a black dress, although it was a casual one, that paired nicely with your sneakers.  It had buttons down the front with a relaxed collar.  Your bag slung over your shoulder when you knocked on his door, a nervousness fluttering in your stomach.  It was such a weird thing, meeting your professor in his home.  Much less having him request you call him by his first name.
Your knees all but buckled when you saw him on the other side of the door.
He looks… young in his jeans.  His t-shirt stretched over the broadness of his shoulders, but it’s still loose enough that it doesn’t look ill-fitted.  His stomach, soft at the bottom.  You flash him a smile, but internally you’re reeling over how casual he looks.  You’d never seen him like this, not even during those school meetings that were informal.
“Hey, you,” he’s bright, too.  Charismatic as he invites you into his home.  Takes your bag, lets you take your shoes off until you’re in your socks.  His words hit your stomach, how easy it is for him to talk to you like you’re the brightest sunflower.  What’d you even do to deserve it?
“Hi, Prof– uh, Joel,” you titter, taking in the curated decor of his home.  It was sophisticated, yet a little cheesy at the same time.  His alumni cover his walls and a mix of pictures.  Some with a couple of young girls you assumed were his children.  He has children, you swallow.
“Wasn’t too hard to find this place, right?  When I moved here, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t too far – not much of a mornin’ person,” Joel laughs and you do, too.  Fuck, this feels so easy.  But it’s nothing – it’s nothing.
What you don’t pick up on right away is his open body language.  He places your bag on his couch and you follow him like a puppy – he likes that.  You look so soft under the sienna hue of his lights, your hair falling into place naturally.  Plump and ripe for the taking.  Of course, he meant it when he said he’d tutor you, but the air got thick the moment the door was shut behind the two of you.  What were you doing to him?
Joel’s large frame walks over to his bar cart, turning on his heel to face you, “Interested?”
“Huh?” You blink and he laughs again at your deer caught in the headlights expression.  You’re cute.
“Do you drink?”
“Oh, uh… water would be nice.”
“Water it is,” Joel’s pleasant, gesturing his hand for you to follow him.  And you do – that puppy he was coming to know, right to his kitchen.  You study the marble countertops, the farmhouse style kitchen sink.
“So, tutoring,” he starts, taking a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with filtered water before handing it to you – you thank him with a nod, “I was thinking we could look at your paper, and then go over how to fix things in the future?”  When you take the water from him, your fingers graze.  The first sign of contact, your head continues to nod unthinkingly, but all that scorches your mind is how his skin feels.
“That sounds good,” you overcompensate, shoving the ideas from your mind.  He was your teacher, and it was easy to get back into the mode of why you were here.
Joel’s expression doesn’t change much, still the same grin with hooded eyes and wrinkles at his forehead.  The two lines between his brow.  “Alright, well I have it on the coffee table.  Let’s get settled on the couch, and we’ll get started, okay?”
So you agree.  You take your glass of water and follow him back to the couch where everything was set up – your paper, his laptop.  All of the correction marks in your face as you sit down.  You take another sip of water before placing it down on the coaster.  You dread it, you really do.  Going over your failures?  You scrunch your nose up to yourself, but Joel notices when you’re both settled on the cushions.
“You know, Voltaire said, ‘perfect is the enemy of good’,”  Joel bends his knee on the couch, thigh pressing into the cushion to turn to you and it causes the couch to shift.  The quote makes you giggle a little to yourself, and you shake your head.  “What?” His eyebrow quirks in curiosity.
“Voltaire also popularised the story of Newton’s apple, doesn’t make it true.”
“Huh…,” Joel trailed off, keeping his eye on you – his tongue skating over his bottom lip in thought.  You were so quick all he could really do was laugh, and that made your shoulders relax.  Makes you feel more in control and comfortable to laugh at yourself.  “You got an answer for everything?”
“Not everything.  See this,” you pick up your paper, thumbing over the ink of corrections the man on the couch made and you shrug, “I don’t really understand why this got marked wrong.”  Joel’s gaze flashes over your mouth when your teeth press into the plushness of your bottom lip – he should be given some damn award for having so much self control around you.
“Wrong format.  This citation works for your research papers, right?”  He nods with you before leaning in closer, that damn cologne coming back in full force just like earlier in the day.  You all but freeze when his warm touch graces you again – this time, fingers tracing over where you’re holding the paper.  “Oh,” your voice is soft, a bit of disappointment pangs at your ribs.  You were so busy you didn’t even realise that was the majority of the issues you had.
“So… it’s not really what I wrote, it’s how I wrote it?  You asked if I read the material?”
“Exactly.  If you read the syllabus, you’d see the required format.  Listen, there are some ways for extra credit, I do think this is salvageable.”
You suddenly feel silly.
You did all that work, Professor Miller was kind enough to let you into his home, and it was all for some redundant formatting.  An open palm curls over your chin as you look at the paper in deep contemplation.
“I really fucked up,” you say, hushed in the space.
“You didn’t fuck anything up,” you manage an exhale of amusement at the sound of your teacher curse.  You shift your gaze to look at him.  The curls at the nape of his neck, the way his t-shirt dropped enough so you could see his neck, his chest.  The freckles that splayed over his aged skin.  “You just needed someone to tell you what to do.”
That was the loaded statement.  And a pointed one, it seems.  Someone to tell you what to do.  And Joel wanted to be that person?  Your eyebrows raise for a flash, thumbing over the paper.
“That would be too easy,” you scratch at your neck idly before going for the glass of water, sipping in contemplation. “...I mean, I should’ve known better.”
Joel takes the glass from you, offering himself a sip of your water and it stuns you speechless, doing your best not to convey it.  Maybe he did that just because this was his house.  That must’ve been it.  He was comfortable, but goddamn – the eye contact he gave you when he swallowed the liquid.
It felt intentional.
He watches your features, vague as they were, in what to do next.  He honestly wasn’t so sure what he was doing either.  What?  I know how to give you extra credit, sweetheart.  Too forward, too boastful, too… cheap.  You deserved better than that.  He saw you in class, how hard you were on yourself.  He talked to your other teachers, how well you were doing in your other classes.  He felt for you.  And he was a bit lost in your eyes.  You were all too pretty, too brilliant to be dimmed down to a fuck for extra credit.  Joel could see that.  He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, you had him distracted.  You threw him off without even trying.  The plight within him grew stronger as he handed back the glass.
“You’re too hard on yourself,” Joel straightens up, his hand cups over your forearm in a way that’s understanding, but also makes goosebumps rise.  You look down to see where you connect and he pulls away slightly.  “Sorry, I–,” “No, it’s okay,” you agree, “It’s okay.  You’re right.”
“It’s just, I see hundreds of bright, beautiful young people every year, but none of them have stood out to me like you.”  He can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth.  The candor, the nerve.  A filthy old man, that’s all he was in the eyes of someone as sweet and innocent as you were.  Even if you happened to be experienced – god, what was he thinking?!
Joel clears his throat, shifting a bit in his seat, but he sees the way your lips part, but your eyes don’t show an ounce of shock or distain.  They look soft, and… willing.  You know that is because the pull at your core feels too strong to think of anything else.  You look down at his left hand, making sure you’re not dreaming.  He’s not married?  You’d casually look at his hands from time to time during class and ignored the ache it gave you, but this?  So close?  Backed by the glow of his house?  It was so different from the boys you were used to.  In their dorms or disgusting apartments.  It smelled as nice as it looked.  You realise you’re not speaking, but the way you lean into him says more than you really ever could.
“I don’t know what to say,” shyly, you touch your knuckles to your cheek, “you should teach the guys that go here how to chat with someone.”
It’s a mutter, but not to yourself.  You drink one more mouthful of what you were offered before putting it back on the coaster.  Honestly, any distraction was welcome to defer from the ever-present density in the room.
“Those guys don’t know what they’re talkin’ about anyway.  I know I didn’t at that age.”
There.  The topic right in front of both of your faces.
“How old at you, anyway?”  You inquire, thumb mindlessly circling over your knee.  Joel tracks it, licking over his lips as he answers.  “Forty-six.  You?”
“Twenty-one.”
Fuck.  Fuck fuck fuck.
There’s this standstill, as if you’re both in the air together looking at each other in slow motion.  How will this land?  What are you both even doing here like this?
“I’m sure your boyfriend takes good care of you,” Joel’s eyes, round and bright brown, get lost in yours – the way your breath hitches, the shift of your thighs on his sofa.  He wondered what you tasted like, what sounds you make when these boys who don’t know what they’re doing with their tongue attempt to eat you out.  Do you fake it?  Do you give it to them straight?  Neither of you had a drink from that bar cart in the corner of the room, but somehow you’ve become closer – and more intoxicated.
“Don’t have one,” you respond softly, orbs flickering to the set of plush lips that grow more red the longer you let the tension build, “what about you?  N-no partner?”
Your attempt in confidence wavering the longer he stares at you.  It’s like staring back into the sun and you have your brows knit together until the tug of muscle makes your forehead hurt – smoothing them apart with the twitch of muscle fibers.
“No partner,” Joel’s hand settles on your thigh and you can’t hold it back; you gasp.  But you do something he doesn’t anticipate, or well, you don’t do something: you don’t pull away.
How did you two get to the topic, anyhow?
How did you end up straddling his lap, for that matter?
It’s within six eager seconds that his hand, hot and rough, touches your soft skin, and you – green, you – fervent, throw all inhibitions aside and lunge.  It’s more fluid than you realise, and his hands (both now) grip the backs of your bare thighs and you whimper at the sensation of him squeezing you.  Your wetness against your cotton panties grows from the kneading alone.  No, absolutely not, the boys back in the dorms didn’t know how to do this.
It takes an even shorter time for your mouths to meet.  He’s first to kiss, and he tastes like coffee and his dinner, and the faintness of a cigarette – maybe early in the day?  You couldn’t tell, your head was swimming too deep in now to come back from.
And although his calloused fingers roll patterns into your soft skin, he’s just as willing.  Just as desireful and you can feel it beg to be set free at the seam of his jeans.  His tongue skirts against yours, hips rolling up the second yours tempt to roll down; causing you both to moan in each other’s mouths.
It gets feverish after that.  All teeth, tongue, bite.
You don’t want to stop, you don’t want to take a moment to breathe because fuck, that could stop things.  That could make him realise what is happening.
But that only is another item to your list of naivety.
Because Joel, he’s ready.  His masculine arms wrap around your frame to lift you up just enough so he can get out of his fucking jeans that he now regrets wearing.  Shoulda been wearin’ sweats, but it’s effortless… eventually.  He hurriedly pushes the thick fabric down until they hit at his thighs and you’re pushed down onto his boxers that – holy fucking shit – leave nothing to the imagination.  “Joel, J-,” you pant between kisses, fingernails digging into the base of his neck, he pauses.  Pulls away, gets a good look at your face.
“Y’want this?” And goddamn, you can’t see yourself, but you imagine you look just as fucked out as he does.  On the cusp of every little fantasy he’s had about you from the moment you sat down behind that desk.
“I want this,” you repeat.  You weren’t sure exactly when the nerves subsided, maybe because all of the blood is now rushed at the apex of your thighs, but you mean it.
You want this.  You want Professor Miller.
“You got me,” his breath dances over your lips before guiding you back a bit, “here… I’m going to lie back, I want you to– I’ll show you.”  Your lips quirk up at the fact he’s so flushed he can’t even finish his sentence.
But that soon turns to you flushing when you realise his request.  “I – what?”
“No?”  Joel sits up on his elbows, looking over to you and you’re worried you’ve killed the mood.  It’s just, straddling his face?  Blood rushes to your cheeks.
“I’ve never done that… What if it’s bad?”  His eyes, reassuring, but a deep shade of black now beckons you.
“Darlin’, I think you’ll be a natural.  But I can teach you, if that’s what you want.”
You swallow, straddling his knees somewhere at the bottom of the couch and you think about it.
Joel, on the other hand, was living in a fantasy of teaching you things in and out of school.  Showing you how to make yourself feel good on his mouth – make you forget all about the essay that caused you grief today.  He leans over, pushing it under the couch out of view for good measure.
“Okay,” you agree, though nerves still flood you.  “Okay, you wanna take your panties off?”  You lick your lips at that, biting back another whimper that brought you to this predicament in the first place.  And you did – you wanted nothing more than to slip your underwear off and give into your pleasures.  His voice was deep, graveled with the prospect of him fucking you senseless on his couch and who were you to deny him that?
Who were you to deny yourself that, more importantly.
“Yeah,” doing as you say, you slip off your lace-trimmed undies and abandon them somewhere on your Professor’s floor.  “Fuck,” you mutter.  This was naughty.
“Already so good for me,” you weren’t even sure that Joel’s voice could get deeper, or more inviting, but it does.  You bite your lip and oblige when he pats his chest.  Going over to him, you straddle just above his broad shoulders, and he’s almost out of view with him like this – somehow making it easier to just feel what he could do to you.
Joel on the other hand?  All he can do is see the outline of your glistening core from the shadowed tent you’ve made of your dress and his groans are muffled slightly from the fabric, “Fuckin’ Christ,” he wants to devour you, but he takes his time instead.
Peppers kisses along your thighs that make you claw the armrest, causes you shiver at the contact and you can’t believe this is happening.  “J-Joel,” you hesitate, but his hands are wrapped around your hips now, fingers digging into the breadth of your ass.
“Sit.”  Joel commands.
Oh, fuck.
You’re almost certain you’ll break skin at your lips from biting down so hard, but you do as you’re told.  Anchoring down, it’s subtle at first – the brushing of his facial hair against your folds, his chin prying you apart.  Then, it’s incredibly palpable.  His lips are the first thing you feel as they press and kiss over your middle and as you shudder it only makes your muscles sink deeper on him.  You’re the first to moan, and then Joel, and his mouth is open when he invites you inside it.
“Oh, my god,” thighs shaking, Joel flattens his tongue under the hood of your clit, a body part you were certain hadn’t been touched by anyone else but yourself.  There was no time to compare, the white hot pleasure coursed through your veins and he took his time with it, too.  Made sure he was teasing you, his tongue dipping inside your entrance, as sloppy as it felt.  “Hmmn,” you can’t speak, forearms resting on the armrest now as your head hangs between your shoulders and his fingers make pliable work of your asscheeks.  Pushing you down, using your hips to move back and forth against his mouth – like he’s using you while you use him.
The air is thick under your dress, sticky and humid, as Joel swirls this tip of his devilish tongue in the most astonishing circles you’ve ever experienced, and you know it’s because he has more experience than you do.  Has so much to teach you, if you let him.  Your mouth hangs open as you try to inhale, but it’s just too much.  Especially with the way he thumbs into your stomach, then your pubic bone – lifting it just slightly to expose your clit to him.  An angle, not even you have found yourself.
It almost feels like too much.  It’s intentional, the way his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves right at the top of your cunt.  Delicious, deliberate.  Two fingers greet your entrance and it startles you, the way he’s rubbing your hole with his two fingers in slow circles before pressing them where you want them most.
“Tell me you want it,” you hear, muffled and fucked, and you shiver at the slightest bit of lack of contact.
“I want it, I want your fingers – please!”
And that seems to send him over the edge of how much he’s willing to hold back because he’s exactly where he was.  Mouth on your clit, but fingers skillfully pressing inside of you and you don’t know how long you’ll last.  Not with the pads of his fingers tapping in the perfect tempo against the ridged spot inside you.
That’s when a weird sensation comes over you.  A pressure, you felt like you had to pee and your insides pulled in more trying to keep it all contained.  “I–,” you start, but it happens so suddenly.  Your orgasm rushes through you, convulsing and almost falling over the edge of the couch, you dig your fingernails into the upholstery.  Your eyes roll back, and fuck, so are your hips.  Unable to stop yourself using Joel’s mouth to keep you exactly right there.  Pleasure pricks your skin, it feels like every cell is ignited – but you jump when you feel a rush of fluid come out of you.  The pressure rebounding out, then rippling pleasure back inside you.  Joel fucks you with his tongue and fingers until he feels you calm down.
“W-what, what… did I do?” You pant, and Joel is groaning, too.  He lifts your hips to get lungfuls of oxygen, so dizzy on you and you notice how soaked his pair of fingers feel on your skin.  Sits you down on his chest and you can see his face finally.  Can see his mouth parting, gasping as his eyes are hooded and so gone.  Curls stick to his forehead, his shirt a dampened colour at the collar.  You blush heavily, embarrassed because you aren’t even sure what that was.  Did he hate that, was that weird?
“C’mere,” he growls with gritted teeth and sits up, the tables turning instantly.  Joel’s stripping his shirt off, kicking every last bit of the bottom half he had on to be abandoned on the floor.  His fingers remove the buttons, but he can’t really get them – those fingers too big for the buttons.  “Here,” you whisper, an intense feeling of lust falling over any self-conscious self talk you had.  You undo the top of your dress one button at a time until your breasts are released from your bra – you moan when he has no problem spilling your tits from the satin, nipples in stiff peaks from your orgasm.  And everything else.
“You know what you did?”  Joel asks, taking both of your nipples between his fingers from each hand.  You moan, lifting your hips and he bites his lip when he sees your cunt front under your dress.  “What was it?”  You ask, curiously.  Innocently.
“You squirted f’me, baby,” he slurs, thumbing over your clit now as he gets a good look at you and he’s drunk on you.  His cock throbbing against your thigh, he taps it against your skin before realising what he needed.
 “Fuck,” Joel mutters and you can tell by the tone it’s not just at your appearance.  “What is it?”  You inquire, eyebrows knit.
“Gotta get a condom,” you hear him mutter, getting onto one foot and you stop him.  “No.  No.  I want to feel you.  It’s okay, I don’t get pregnant–” well that sentence isn’t exactly how you mean for it to come out, but your mind is mush, your body feels boneless underneath him, and he chuckles at that.  At how gone your brain is.  Here he was, thinking he was the only one.  “Okay, okay, darlin’.  I believe ya.”
And really, maybe he should be using more discretion.  But he can’t get the feeling of you out of his head.  You were everywhere.  His mouth, his glistening chest and beard.  He takes you by the hips then, sitting back to flip you on your hands and knees with your help and you moan at the sensation.  Joel looks down at you, groaning of your ass in the air, pushing back for his cock.  “Such a needy little thing, now,”  it’s as if someone else is talking.  This isn’t the Professor Miller you know.  This man has layers and you’re first in line to know exactly what that entails.
Joel takes the base of his cock, bobbing it as it throbs alive in his hand and runs through your slick with the head of it.  “So fucking wet.  Beginning to think you’ve been wanting this for as long as I have.”
You bite a whine and he can see the back of your head nodding as you crane your neck back enough to make eye contact, but his eyes fall down to your ass pressing eagerly on his cock.  Doing your best to press him inside yourself.
“Go ahead,” he slaps his cock on your folds and you mewl at the wet sounds coming from it.  “Take my cock.”
And take, you do.  Joel holds it out for you, keeps it steady and you push back slow on his cock.  Clenching around the head and he growls at that.  “You dirty thing.  This how you fuck all your teachers?”  It burns your skin, pushing your face into your arm and you shake your head.
“Words.” He warns.
“Just you!  Just you, Joel!”
“Just me,” he parrots, hissing when you shift back and you both twitch and groan when you take him to the hilt of you.  It was so thick, stretching you out until you felt split apart from him.  “Just me, show me then.  Show me how you fuck me.”
You bite into your arm then, choking on a sob as you push your ass back over and over.  Your cunt taking him deep like this, it almost feels like too much and not enough at once.  Torturously slow against the spongy spot again
 It felt so amazing taking him yourself, but it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch on your own.  The tapping of his balls against your clit was too far apart in tempo, his cock speared inside you at a pace that didn’t have quite the same leverage as Joel did behind you.
His hands busied themselves on your ass, peeling the muscle apart – pressing his digits to leave bruises and just when you think it’s too much to take, he gives you something else.  His spit falling from his lips right to the velvet of your asshole.  You shudder and flutter around him when it falls to where you’re connected.  Your fingertips grip the other armrest now, cheek resting atop of your hand and you can’t do it yourself anymore.  “Fuck me, Joel!  Professor Miller, please!”
“Shit – you know where to push, don’t you?”  Joel’s wide hands slide up your sides, keeping them locked in place as he pulls your hips to him at first.  Using your whole lower body, your head hands doing your best to keep yourself up but you’re so close when he uses you like this.  When he picks up the pace and you let your head fall on his throw pillow – your screams of desire are targeted into the plush cushion.
Joel is bound up in amazement behind you.  How you feel around him, your gorgeous figure in front of him as he gives you every bit of power he can now.  His hips hammering into you, but with the right amount of speed – not too fast, not too slow.  The sound of his balls slapping against your clit is faster now, and the difference is what you focus on.  The way it sounds.  Joel feels you tighten, pulse around his own pulse and he has to say something to you.  Has to talk you through it, even if he’s not sure you’ll like it.
“So fuckin’ good for me,” he drapes his body over your back, huffing into your ear as the controlled weight of him pushes your ass down just enough to make your thighs shake.  You are soaked, sticky against his abdomen, between your thighs.  Over your own stomach.  You move your face so you can feel his skin closer against your.  His lips staying on your cheekbone, he grunts and nods.
“That’s it, fuckin’ take it.  I know you can take it.  Those shaky fuckin’ thighs better hold on.”
You feel yourself coil and he is quick to sooth over your hips with his palms.
“Relax, baby.  That’s it, that’s good, darlin’.  Shh, easy.  Do you feel that heat?”
You nod hopelessly, the buildup was so strong you couldn’t do anything but curl your fingers into fists and whimper repeatedly.
“Give into that heat.  Come for me, I know you can be so good for me.  Good for – fuck – fuck.  Good for my cock,” Joel groaning in your ear makes you flutter uncontrollably, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your front, rolling quick circles at the split of your cunt, right at your clit.  “Milkin’ my fuckin’ cock like that, don’t stop.  Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he grits, and you’re gasping.
Clawing at the pillow, head craning up and back as you come.  Mouth gaped, Joel takes advantage – pouring his tongue into it, swirling and drinking you while his cock bottoms into you repeatedly until he can’t take it anymore.  You feel too good.  Perfect, even.
“Joel!” Your whine is high, as your wet folds take his merciless shoves.  “You feel so good, youfeelsogood!”  Your lip quivers, jerking in aftershocks that feel a lot like multiple orgasms.  You aren’t even sure how you feel, but he knows he has to pull out.  So he tells you, rough and pained against your ear.  He doesn’t want to any more than you do.  But as soon as he does, that reward feels just as sweet.
He exhales roughly through his nose, a popping sound filling the room when he pulls out.  Not even needing to touch himself to spill himself over the small of your back.
“Fuck,” he’s out of breath, grunting, and doing his best not to collide into you.  You’re still, the nape of your neck dews with sweat and you can feel it stick to your dress instantly.
“Stay there,” Joel pulls away, and you sit up on your elbows now that you’re fully flat and study his frame walk into the kitchen.
The back of him is just as irresistible as the front.
You hum hungrily at the landscape of his back.  But you do as you say, you don’t move a muscle.  When he comes back, you take note of the splotches of his chest, his neck red and sheened with sweat, too.  He’s just as disheveled.  The paper towel he comes back with is rough against your lower back, but tickles more than anything else.
Makes you wriggle and laugh.
“What did I say?”  He threatens, but his voice is much more smoother and tender.  More playful.  More like what you’re used to.
“Tickles!”
“You must endure it if you know what’s good for you.”  he’s finished enough for you to roll over.  You pull your tits back into your bra with another low laugh, but to yourself at how exposed and a mess you’re sure you look on your professor’s couch.
“I think I like that threat.”
“No more,” and that makes your heart drop.  He must be able to see the disappointed look on your face, so he rephrases his sentence in an instant.  “No more tonight.”
“Maybe I should be teaching you the importance of ambiguity.”
“Next lesson.”
Your heart soars just as fast as it dropped.
---
While you slip on your sneakers, you turn your heel to him – bag in tow.  “Listen, I don’t want this to be why I passed.”
“It’s not – it won’t be,”  Joel chews up the space between you – his hand pressing against the doorframe that your delicate hand adorns at the knob, fully dressed himself, now.  “You will pass by your own volition.  I meant it – you are bright.  You won’t let anybody take that from you, will you?” You knew that wasn’t a question as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you still swayed your head ‘no’.
“Not even me.”  He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead before dropping his arm – allowing you to leave.  And that’s exactly what he’ll let you believe.
“Especially not you.”  You smile, leaning up to kiss his lips – your flavour lingers over his facial hair and tongue.  Your panties in his pocket.
“Goodnight, Professor Miller.”
“Goodnight, doll.”
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jaemified · 10 months
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keep it quiet - choi seungcheol
“you gotta keep it quiet for me baby”
pairing ; bf!seungcheol x fem!reader
genre ; smut (MDNI), porn w minimal plot, fluff towards the end, est relationship, secret relationship
warnings ; swearing, soft dom cheol, pillow princess reader, unprotected sex (pls keep it safe</3), soft sex, groping, sucking, praise kink (f and m), begging, fingering, sorta manhandling, marking, mention of seokmin jerking off and pictures being taken
wordcount ; 2.1k
synopsis ; you and seungcheol never liked taking risks, especially with 8 of his 12 roommates home. but, up until your self control couldn’t handle it anymore, you both found it was best to keep it quiet.
read below the cut !
despite being together for a year now, neither yours or seungcheols friends knew. though, you both would post a little corny caption on social media hinting towards one another, none of your friends were able to connect the dots.
except miyeon or seungkwan, they had their suspicions at times but you were still able to keep them from knowing.
cheol had always liked things private, finding it best to keep what’s closest to him, closest to him. you were the same way, and you weren’t sure what or how your friends would act, so for the sake of your own anxiety you both decided to keep your relationship secret.
so, you were celebrating your one year anniversary. it was big for the two of you, yet you still kept the celebration to a minimum.
seungcheol had taken you to your favorite restaurant, then a small ice cream parlor before heading to the park to talk and enjoy one another.
that was, until he realized his roommates all were busy for the day and thought it would be a good idea to take you home with him.
of course, you had been there before with your friends seeing as your circle was intersecting with one another, but you had never been there by yourself, not wanting to take the risk.
but cheol wanted to take advantage of this, with all 12 of his roommates busy for the whole day, you could do whatever you wanted and he’d have you home by the time they came back.
or so he thought.
you were under seungcheol, his hand clamped tightly over your mouth to suppress your moans as he slowly but deeply thrusted into you.
the way you looked up at him with those hazy eyes had him over the moon, he knew he hit the jackpot when he fell for you.
the way you clenched around him so tightly had him releasing even the slightest low whimpers.
he removed his hand from your mouth to support himself up to thrust into you at a better angle.
seungcheol pushed one of your legs up to your chest and reveled in how good you felt, sucking on his tip as he plunged back into you deeply with a small groan.
neither of you expected for soonyoung, chan, joshua, mingyu, wonwoo, jeonghan, jun, and especially not jihoon to come home all at the same time.
with the 8 of them scattered around the dorm, you did your best to bite back any sounds but cheol was fucking into you too good it was hard not to have any reaction.
your eyes rolled back as you let out an almost too loud mewl while he hit that one spot that had you arching your back.
he immediately jolted at the sound that left your throat, it was too pretty, but only for him to hear.
seungcheol slowed down his pace and released your leg, not letting your high slip away while still going slow enough for you not to make any noise.
you reached down to rub your clit as you groaned at the loss of friction before he softly slapped your hand.
“no touching.”
“i cant! its not enough!” you cried out as you felt cheol slip his cock out, and replace it with his fingers.
he slowly pushed two of his fingers into you, letting out a shaky breath at how tightly you sucked him in despite all the foreplay earlier.
“were my fingers not enough for you earlier? god. you’re as tight as a virgin.” he groaned as he watched how your slick coated his fingers. “you’re absolutely dripping for me.” he scoffed.
“only for you,” you whimpered. “need your cock, please.” you begged, digging your nails into his bicep.
“you gotta keep it quiet for me baby. you don’t want them finding out, do you?”
you let out a choked sob as he began to pick up the pace, the sound of his fingers moving against your wetness being the only audible thing in the room.
seungcheol leaned his head down to wrap his lips around your hardened nipple, swirling his tongue around it before taking your whole tit into his mouth as he massaged the inside of your walls.
“fuck. so good cheol. feel so good..”
“yeah?”
he began to relentlessly finger fuck you, biting his lip at the little sounds that escaped your lips as you did the best you could to be quiet.
“you gonna be a good girl for me?”
“ill be a good girl. yours! just, need you in me. please.” you whimpered before throwing your head back into the cotton pillow as cheol mercilessly hit your soft spot.
you clenched around nothing in sensitivity before he had slipped his dick back into you slowly, never missing the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure.
he began to slowly thrust into you again, almost a little too hard though as the headboard of the bed began to tap against the wall, almost too risky as jeonghans room was on the other side.
he didnt want to end up like seokmin, who they found jerking off after some wet dream in his room. they had barged in before taking some pictures and leaving.
privacy really was non existent in this household. good thing seungcheol made sure the door was locked out of paranoia.
“c-cheol. the wall.” you managed to get out.
he said nothing, but flipped you over so his back was pressed against the mattress and you were sitting on top of him.
you began to move your hips against his, grinding deep onto his cock before it got too much for you after such a short amount of time.
cheol always knew you were a pillow princess at heart.
he pulled you down so you could rest on his chest while he moved his hips up into you slowly.
seungcheol pressed a kiss on top of your head as you tried your best to meet his thrusts.
you sat up, propping yourself up by having your hands flat against his chest.
you both knew you wouldn’t be able to finish off if you did all the work, so you continued to meet him half way, moving your hips down as he thrusted up into you.
seungcheol moved back up to rest his head up a bit so he was slightly upright, sticking his tongue out to suck on your tit again, using one hand to fondle and grope at the one getting lesser attention, while using his other hand to tightly grip at your waist.
you looked down at him, a suppressed moan escaping your lips as you relished in the sight beneath you. your beautiful boyfriend under you, looking up into your eyes with the utmost attractive gaze while he licked and sucked at your chest.
“fuck. you’re so pretty under me. make me feel so good cheol. so so good.” you managed to whisper, the pleasure getting to your head as you felt the band in your stomach ready to snap at any moment.
“y/n. ‘m close.” he mumbled as he moved to leave marks up on your neck.
“inside.”
his eyes widened in surprise, “are you sure?”
“please cheol.” you sighed with a shaken up voice that came out more as an elongated moan.
that was all it took for him to go over the edge, his warm seed being released into you, coming out in thick white ropes.
he enveloped your lips into a soft kiss before letting out a twisted grin, or whatever that was as he was still pussy drunk via post orgasm. your eyebrows raised as you knew that stupid look on his face meant he was up to no good.
seungcheol pulled out of you, ignoring how his cum leaked out of your sopping wet hole, before grabbing your waist tightly and flipping you over so you were on your back once more, before he slipped back into you so he was sure to drive you over the edge without making any noise, deep and slow, yet fast enough so you could feel your high approaching.
“c-cheol. im close. so close.” you whined.
he moved a hand down to rub at your clit with the pad of his thumb aggressively, as you let out an exasperated sigh.
“so good for me, pretty girl. youre my baby arent you? my pretty baby.” he cooed softly as he felt you release all over him, thrusting into you slowly to ride out your high.
“such a good girl. cheols good girl. there you go. let cheol take care of you hmm?” he hummed, pressing his lips together into a smile.
you whimpered at the empty feeling of nothing as he pulled out to lie down next to you, pulling you into a hug as you kissed his cheek.
“hold on.” he told you as he heard his phone buzz.
broz b4 hoezzz🥶🥶😴💤
9 online • 4 inactive
lee chanz ; yo we just left home so if yall want anything pay up and place your order nd we’ll get it @/wooziz @/vernonz @/coupz @/myunghoez @/kyeommiez @/kwanniez
kwanniez ; i thought @/wooziz was with u
gyuz ; he left to the studio
wooziz ; i want fried chicken
vernonz ; me and seokmin will share tteokbokki
kwanniez ; chinese food for me and @/myunghoez thx
hanniez ; @/coupz ? you want anything or not unless u jus want the leftovers, we can drop it off to your office
gyuz ; @/coupz ??
cheol smirked as he showed you the chat room displayed on his phone, not even realizing they had all left earlier. “one more round?”
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nkogneatho · 4 months
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𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑫𝑬𝑹
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—cw: perversion, panty sniffing, panty fucking, male masturbation, slight degradation and dirty talk, reader is not dating gojo but gojo has his eyes on her.
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—a/n: perv suguru has been on my mind lately cuz he seems so bored and sweet sometimes that i can't help but think he is a closet pervert. shoot me.
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Gojo has always been such an open pervert. he passes comments on you as you walk in front of him. Always teasing you. And you surely didn't miss the way he brushed his hands against your ass subtly when you were talking. But what you found more interesting was his bestfriend. Because he never even looked you way even though you three have been hanging out for a while. It's not like you had romantic feelings for him, but you were damn beautiful and witty. For a man like him to repulse that seemed to shady. And you were right on the money.
You already had a long day and all you wanted to do was hop in the shower then sleep. Panic settled in your eyes when you saw your door unlocked. Shit. I remember locking it. Should I call the police? Wait. I need to check first. You held the key with sharp edges in your fist ad you proceeded to make small and silent steps, making sure not to alert the intruder. You heard distorted creaking noises. As you approached closer, the noise got clearer. You regretted installing the thick laced curtains since it blocked your clear vision. You gulped and finally decided to just face it. Eyes shut close as an instinct before you fluttered them open to finally see Gojo chilling on the couch watching your television.
"What the fuck? How did you get in?"
"You need a safer doorlock. Do you know how easy it was with Suguru's hairpin?" he didn't even spare you a look, as if this was normal.
"I—Toru what are you doing here? If you wanted to hang out you could've called me."
"We ran out of chips."
"We?" You questioned him.
"Ah yes. Suguru's in your bedroom looking for a charger I guess." You sighed and threw the bag on the coffee table in the hall.
Anxiety settled in when you approached closer to your room. Something about Suguru being in your bedroom made your gut twist. You stepped closer to the ajar door. A hint of heavy breathing with moans brushed your ears but you thought it was just your imagination. There's no way—
Your eyes defied your thoughts. Suguru had your black lace panties, tangled in his fingers and wrapped around his cock as he fucked himself.
"fuck. fuck. holy shit! fuck." The moans were too subtle to be noticed but they didn't miss your ears that were now stuck to the door. A part of you didn't want to stop him but you needed to confront this scene that was unfolding in fornt of your eyes. You swayed the door open, announcing your presence. Yet, he wasn't fazed. Droopy eyes with scruched brows locked with your stunned ones but he didn't look bothered in the slightest. Veiny hands continued to fist his cock.
"What are you—"
"Just seeing what is all the fuss about." Before you could complete your sentence, he spoke. "You know—ah fuck!! Satoru always talks about how—shit how good you smell. And," his movement stopped. He brought the hand that had your black kace closer to his face and he sniffed it. A long drag of inhale. "He is right. You smell so fuckin' good." Your cheeks grew hotter. He looked so calm and put together. You always thought Satoru is the unhinged one. But you were proved wrong.
"Suguru—"
"Do you like it?" He asked.
"W-what?" You trembled in a feeling that was so foreign to you. Was it fear? Was it disgust? Perhaps, perversion?
"Don't pull that innocent shit on me," he cocked his brow. "Didn't you wear this last week and whore around me?" He stepped closer to you. "Bending over and shit so I can notice you." Big hand brushed against your clothed cunt. "You can fool around with him all you want but I know you want the forbidden fruit, baby." He cupped it so hard. "Attention whore."
You moaned.
Shit. You moaned loud.
Suguru's eyes looked behind you to see signs of Gojo because he sure as hell wouldn't have missed that sound. But he wasn't near. Maybe he was so indulged in whatever show he was watching.
"Here's what we're gonna do," he mumbled in your ear. "We're gonna go upstairs. I am going to lock the door and fuck you, darlin'," you were still processing his words. "and I am fine with you screaming your lungs out if you want to let him know I am taking what's his."
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tags: @eapoes @charisma-rockstar @erenmyman @dawgkuna @hellkaiserinphoenix @anxious-chick
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venuslore · 9 months
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𖥔 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𖥔
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summary ; eddie doesn't know how to stay still but you like it a little too much
pairing ; eddie munson x girlfriend!reader
notes ; grinding, kinda thigh-riding, pet names, female orgasm, profanities.
do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.
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there was an ongoing build-up of friction. the heat between your legs growing as you lay with eddie. your legs wrapped around his side, encapsulating one of his between your own. and every time he moved in even the slightest, you fought the moans daring to escape your lips. he didn’t know what he was doing to you — that he was causing you such pleasure simply because he didn’t know how to be still.
“you want a drink, baby?” he asks, leaning towards the pile of discarded water bottles and beer bottles he had yet to clean up, to gather you a fresh one.
his leaning, causes his leg to push right up against your heat, and you can’t take it anymore. “eds, stop moving!” you pout, slapping him on the chest lightly.
he pulls right back, brows knitted with deep confusion and a hint of worry. big dewy eyes staring at you, “why? what’s wrong?”
“nothing. you just keep moving and it’s…” your words trail off when your eyes pan down to where his thigh was being held hostage by your legs. he follows your gaze, quick to understand what was really going on.
“oh,” there’s a glimmer in his eyes, a knowing look, as he sees what he’s doing now, and a smirk begins to pull at his lips. “you don’t really want me to stop though, do you?”
he could see right through you. drawing your bottom lip in, you shake your head and a soft chuckle releases from him as he purposely moves his thigh again.
“eds,” you whimper his name, meeting his gaze once more.
through his lashes, and dishevelled bangs, he peers at you, pupils dilating under the dim light of his room. eddie’s favourite thing in the world was bringing you pleasure, helping you embrace your sexual side, but mostly just you — he loved you — and how trusting you were with him. it made him feel special. important. and to you, he was.
“you want me to keep going?” his voice is low now, watching as your chest rises when he moves his leg closer to your centre. you nod rapidly, panting when he pulls it away again. “move for me.”
you do as he says and slowly start to roll your hips against him. a moan escaping you as the texture of his jeans through nothing but the thin material of your panties rubs across your nub. the feeling sets your region alight and you thank yourself for deciding to wear a skirt that day.
as you continue to move, your sweetness begins to build, a slick developing between you and eddie. it makes it easier for you to move against him. a ball of pleasure grows in your stomach as eddie pulls your flimsy little skirt up, revealing your ass and giving it a tight squeeze. the cool touch of his rings causing you to hiss.
“fuck, eddie,” you moan his name, trying to keep your eyes on him, but they flutter closed from time to time. "feels s'good."
you cling onto him now, hands gripping at the thin material of his hellfire shirt, as the other reaches behind his head, getting tangled between his curls. it's then that he starts to help you move, his hand firmly grasping your ass as he does so.
"you like that, huh? you like moving your pretty little clit against me like that?" your eyes blow wide with desire, the wetness in your panties now transferring to his pants, but you knew that he didn't care. he loved getting your juices on him.
setting yourself into a steady rhythm, the sensation almost becomes too much as you jut your hips faster now, and eddie removes his hand from your ass to tilt your chin towards him. "i want you to look at me when you cum, okay? i want to see how good i'm making you feel."
you nod rapidly, brows upturning from the pleasure, and earning yourself a 'good girl'. eddie slides his thumb across your bottom lip, before pressing down to open it up.
“such a pretty hole.”
“fuck, eds.” you moan, his thumb rolling back and forth across your lips still.
"cum for me, baby. let it out." he says, making sure that your eyes remain locked with his, your mouth bursting open and body convulsing around him as the pressure that had been building finally comes tumbling down. "there it is." he lets out a breathy chuckle, forever in awe of how beautiful you looked when you reached your high.
you fall into him, trying to catch your breath, and after a moment you move to lay on your back spent, chest rising and falling dramatically as you stare up at his ceiling. "fucking hell." you sigh.
"you know i'm never gonna sit still ever again, right?" he leans towards you, snaking his hands around your neck, his rings no longer cool to the touch, and pulling you in for a heated kiss as you giggle. "that was so fucking hot."
"oh, i bet you liked it." you raise an eyebrow at him, hand reaching down to feel the stiffness in his pants.
"you could definitely say that."
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